


A Distant Dream

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Star Wars AU, also Shiro's kind of in it if you have a sharp eye, they're mostly minor OCs but I did need a few people to populate this universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 03:35:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13115136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Keith has been on the run from the First Order longer than he should have, chasing a dream longer than he should have, looking for hope longer than he should have. It takes one of the last living Jedi to make him realize that hope doesn't wait for you to find it.





	A Distant Dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yiffkashit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yiffkashit/gifts).



> [Here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k1XcBTc7h9o&index=4&list=LLDSQh0cdff2UFf4nrnnPkKA) is some mood music: Blue Magic by Kelly Hogan and Bill Taft. (Tell me if the link doesn't work!)

This is, first and foremost, a way to  _ not _ get noticed and/or caught by the Empire. What you  _ don’t _ do is that you  _ don’t _ get your hands on any smuggled weapons and you  _ don’t  _ talk to some people who know some people in the Alkan quadrant, and then you  _ don’t _ go off on a personal revenge quest halfway across the universe and you  _ don’t  _ realize when you get there that the information was stale and the base is abandoned and you  _ don’t  _ make a home there (it’s  _ not _ the closest thing to home you’ve seen in a while) and you  _ don’t  _ accidentally turn on the great big communication switch five months into your stay and you  _ don’t _ say how much the Empire sucks ass and it kills hopes and dreams and you  _ don’t _ bust ass and steal a speeder from the base and you absolutely, definitely, in no way in any of the 475,928 known religions’ hells (excluding those that believe in rebirth and, of course, the Force, which was a fool’s errand and a traitor’s errand)  _ DO NOT _ accidentally temporarily adopt the universe’s perhaps only living Force-sensitive Jedi knight. 

 

Keith needed to get a new speeder. Really, at this point, he’d be fine with any kind of spacecraft. Requirements: should fit one (1) pilot comfortably. Gunman optional. Bed optional. Toilet would be nice. Easily fixable. Lightspeed optional, but prefered. Radar detector and anti-radar technology. A sign on the door saying “No Jedi Allowed”. 

 

Keith sat in the pilot’s chair and stewed. His thoughts were  _ nice. _ His thoughts had no Jedi in them. Eventually, he became aware of a nervous sort of energy behind him. Without turning to turn and see who it was (could only be one person anyway), he bit off a terse, “Yes?”

 

“Do you have any other food on this ship other than microwavable rations or nutribars?” the Jedi asked. Keith was vaguely surprised at the question—the Jedi usually asked about techie things Keith didn’t know the answer to, or “where are we” or “are we there yet?”

 

“You’re going to have to wait until we’re planet-side to get some fresh food,” Keith said. “‘Til then, that’s really all we got.”

 

He felt the Jedi wilt. It was probably the Force acting around him. “Oh. Okay.”

 

Keith deliberated at the controls, then set the speeder to a gentle cruise on autopilot and shot out of his chair. He was just in time, too—the Jedi was about to leave, probably to tinker in Keith’s room that he had generously lent to the kid. Keith reached out to clasp a hand on his shoulder, but withdrew as soon as he touched the fabric. “Sorry. Habit.” (It was.)

 

The Jedi stopped in the doorway and turned back to look at Keith. All of a sudden, the small space of the main cabin got a hell of a lot smaller. “It’s fine.”

 

“Mm.” Keith locked his hands behind his back. “Hey—so, I was thinking, we don’t really know each other, and it’s a long way to B’Nemi, so…” 

 

The Jedi’s smile rose. “Oh! You want to play Catch The Lie?” 

 

“What?” Besides not being used to people being open to strangers just like that, Keith had no idea what Catch The Lie was. 

 

The Jedi, still smiling (it was genuine, yes it was), pushed past Keith and sat down on one of the couches. “It’s a game,” he began as Keith cleared the area enough for two people to sit down. Didn’t take long; he kept his ship clean. “We each say three statements, then the other has to catch the lie in there.”

 

Keith found a blanket and offered it to the Jedi. “Oh… kay. I was thinking more of, you know, Questionnaire Legionnaire. Twenty questions for each person.”

 

The Jedi crossed his arms, silently refused the blanket. “Well, what would you ask me?”

 

Keith silently winced. He still held onto the blanket, so decided to throw it on the Jedi. He got some courage from the spluttered noise the Jedi made. Enough courage that he could ask: “What’s… your… name?”

 

Immediately, the Jedi stopped fighting with the blanket and let loose one horrendous laugh. Keith flinched, he’d admit it. He didn’t like it when people laughed at him. “You mean to tell me I’ve been on your ship for two  _ days _ and you never knew my name was Hunk?” 

 

Keith blinked. “Your name is Hunk? What kind of a name is Hunk?”  _ A fitting kind of name, _ his traitorous mind whispered. 

 

“It’s my turn to ask,” Hunk the Jedi knight singsonged. He leaned forward, the blanket trapped between his elbows and knees. “What… why don’t you support the Empire?”

 

Keith sat down with a thump and a smile that conveyed no mirth. “Going straight for the tricky subjects, huh. I don’t…” 

 

Thoughts and images swirled around his head. If he didn’t keep careful watch of them, he could drown in them, but he couldn’t stand to be rid of them, either. “The Rebel Alliance saved me a few years back. It was, uh… pretty bad.”

 

Hunk made a low whistling sound. “What did they save you from?” 

 

A helpless little laugh escaped Keith. He couldn’t help it. “It’s my turn. Maybe I can tell you later.” He carefully considered Hunk. Even though Keith wasn’t anything close to Force-sensitive, he did know how to understand people. There was a hard gleam in Hunk’s eye that said he wasn’t any kind of pushover. “So… Hunk. When did you find out you were a Jedi?”

 

Hunk blinked hard. “How did you—”

 

Keith gave an unsubtle once-over to Hunk’s tan, ribboned robes and lack of personal weapons. They both blushed. “Duh.”

 

Hunk’s face deepened in color, probably without his knowledge or allowance. “I mean… is it that obvious?”

 

Keith nodded enthusiastically. 

 

“I was pretty young,” Hunk whispered. He cut himself off, muttered something to himself, sort of shook his head like his hair was wet. “My sister and I were playing outside… I didn’t mean to. I don’t even know why I did it, or how—Nati was pretending to attack me, but she jumped onto my shoulders and hung off of me, and I shoved her off, but I accidentally used the Force, and she flew twenty feet into the air.”

 

Keith winced in sympathy. “I’m sorry.”

 

“She lived,” Hunk said, a little desperation—the tired kind—seeping into his voice. “My parents found a teacher for me out on Myas. I… I haven’t seen them since.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Keith said again, the words ringing hollow.

 

“It’s fine,” Hunk muttered, just as empty. 

 

Keith stood up. “Alright, that’s enough Questionnaire Legionnaire for now. We’re coming up on Lwiowl and Wilo—if you want fresh food, here would be a good place.”

 

Hunk watched as Keith poked around in the cockpit. Keith didn’t bother looking back at Hunk; he  _ was _ busy with flight preparations, thanks. And there wasn’t much about Hunk for looking. He knew the thought was a lie even before it was fully formed. 

 

“I had a question,” Hunk said softly. Almost too soft, definitely too soft to be heard over the purring engine. Most people would have missed it. Keith wasn’t most people. 

 

“Then ask it,” Keith said, still refusing to glance back. He heard Hunk stand up and flip the blanket around. 

 

“What did the Rebels save you from?” 

 

Keith’s hands stilled on the controls. Before he had to think too hard about it, he forced himself to finish flight preparations. When he put on his helmet, his breathing fogged up the glass. With the helmet came a frantic beeping. Keith immediately started processing the noise: a war was going on, as usual. 

 

Lwiowl and Wilo were two planets locked in each other’s gravity, constantly circling each other and fighting for control. The rebels backed Wilo, and the Empire (always so unwilling to allow the rebels a foothold) backed Lwiowl. Despite their war, the double planets were a nice place to visit. Lots of nature. 

 

“Hold on to something,” Keith called to Hunk, then did a barrel roll to avoid a couple stray shots. 

 

Thanks to the helmet, most of the crashing and yelling from the back was muted. Good thing, too—Keith needed all the concentration he could gather to land his craft safely. Normally, he would be fine with a couple hits landing on him, but he did have another life onboard. 

 

“I told you to hold on to something,” Keith yelled to Hunk. A second later, he had to dart a quick left and a quicker right to dodge the incoming red and green rays. 

 

The helmet blocked most of it, but Keith caught the tail end of Hunk’s yell of, “... Wilo or Lwiowl!”

 

“What,” Keith yelled. Hunk grabbed the back of his seat. Keith twisted his helmet around one ear so he could hear. 

 

“We don’t need to go to Lwiowl or Wilo,” Hunk groused at normal volume. 

 

“Huh,” Keith said. He brought the controls up hard, enough to execute a neat backflip. Since nothing else shot at them, he stalled, figuring they were safe for now. “I thought you wanted fresh food.”

 

“That is not the Jedi way,” Hunk said stiffly, sniffing a bit. 

 

“So you want it,” Keith said.

 

“We’re not supposed to  _ want _ anything,” Hunk said. “Worldly desires will only suppress us and drag us down.”

 

“Sounds like bullshit,” Keith said cheerily, and drove his craft back down to the fight. 

 

Old habits kicked in, as they are wont to do. He surveyed the battlefield: two cruisers faced each other, both with their own array of support vehicles and various fight-to-dies. One cruiser had tiny, colorful dots all along the hull. (When Keith accidentally flew a little too close, Hunk pointed out that they were handprints.) The other sported the First Order logo. Despite this, the first cruiser was holding its own. Dozens upon dozens of Tie-fighters and X-Wings and other various FTDs lay stunned or dead in the middle of the battlefield, making it harder than it should have been to get through this whole section of space unharmed. 

 

They needed fresh food anyway, Keith decided. If his memory didn’t fail him, there would be a civilian spaceport on Wilo only a few kilometers from this battlefield. 

 

Keith shot out from the edges of the battle, his adrenaline immediately dying down. This was always his favorite part, secretly: the relief he made it through another battle alive. He barely shot anything at anyone this time around, but still, it counted. One of these days he was going to die. It was probably going to be in the middle of a fight. Keith was ready. At least, he would be. 

 

“We’re looking for a spaceport on Wilo,” Keith said for Hunk’s sake. 

 

“Please never fly again,” Hunk said, a familiar, queasy groan tacked on the end of the sentence. 

 

“Bathroom is second door on the left. Barf bags are in one of the shelves above the couch.”

 

Hunk made no reply, but the sound of his feet on the floor made Keith smirk to himself. 

 

* * *

 

With Hunk recovered, and some finessing on Keith’s part (“You would deny my  _ dying husband _ the chance to be treated by Wilo’s finest doctors?  _ What kind of monsters are you?”) _ , they made it through customs. Hunk kept getting distracted by the spaceport’s bright kiosks. For a Jedi, he really liked sparkly things. 

 

“Not why we came here,” Keith said for the umpteenth time, despite Hunk’s puppy eyes and the sparkly pink, vaguely tie-fighter shaped toy. 

 

Immediately, Hunk slipped into a scowl. “You’d make a good Jedi master.”

 

Keith crossed his arms. “I’m just budgeting. If you have your own money, then go ahead. I’m spending my money on  _ food.” _

 

“Fine,” Hunk said, drawing out the vowel. 

 

Questions followed Keith all the way to Wilo’s most famous open-air market, located in the city of Samto Setny. “What if you have money left over?” It will be saved. “Don’t you like sparkly things?” No. “Why not?” Because. “What if we see a cool jacket made out of espleegish leather?” Already have one, don’t need another. 

 

Thankfully, the questions stopped once they reached the market. Keith didn’t blame Hunk—the shoppers, the merchants, and all that colorful  _ fruit _ was enough to strike anyone dumb. Keith allowed a few moments to allow Hunk to take it all in. 

 

The outdoor fruit, frigment, and flower market of Samto Senty spread an entire city block. It had started under two glass longhouses squished between high-rise buildings on either side. As the market grew and grew, it gained power and spilled onto the street, so the city allowed it its own city block located far away from any important thoroughfares. 

 

Now, it was an infestation of frigment stalls and fragrant flowers and bright fruit. A few other types of merchants made their way in (notably hot food, though Keith did see a bookseller in a gap between the crowd), but everywhere you looked, there would be fruit. 

 

“Alright, let’s get going,” Keith said once he thought Hunk had had enough looking. “Tell me what I should buy. Are there any fruits that you just have to have? Any that you can’t?”

 

“What is that,” Hunk said, staring at a rarer type of stall. 

 

“Frigments.”

 

“We need one.”

 

“They have that effect on everyone. Turn away before your brain falls out of your ears.”

 

“What?” Hunk asked quickly, but Keith had already walked into the crowd. Hunk only caught up when Keith stopped in front of a food stall. 

 

“I haven’t had øtnestig in years,” he confessed softly, memories rushing over him. JT-128, SL-070, and their droid, a T3 model, version OSO. They’d spray painted T3 red once and gotten KP for a week. 

 

“I could cook something better,” Hunk muttered. Keith shifted his weight away, the memories cruelly shoved away as quickly as they had overcome him in the first place. Perhaps Hunk  _ could _ cook something better (he hadn’t cooked anything for Keith yet), but that wasn’t the point. The point was the memories, and the life he had to leave behind. 

 

“Let’s focus,” Keith said, mostly to himself. “We shouldn’t stay here too long. It’s not a shopping spree.”

 

Hunk, whose attention had been caught by a stall selling steamed walish wrapped in samalf leaves, whined softly. 

 

Keith’s own attention was drawn to a wooden stall overflowing with fruit. Maikiki melons and zeengo sat pretty, green dal vines crawling up the supporting poles and soft blue jayjay leaves shading the delicacies. The ranscosh berries gleamed in the sunlight, next to the imbay glittering with dew. 

 

“There,” he said. Heedless of Hunk or anyone around him, he strode through to the stall. The crowd seemed to part around him like Honta and the Casgard sea. 

 

The man sitting behind the stall knitted what looked to be the beginning of a big, blue sock. Maybe it was a hat. Perhaps the sleeve of a sweater? 

 

“Maikiki are 9 GAC a piece, ranscosh berries are 2.5 per ten, jayjays are three per ten, and samalf are five for three,” the knitter said, without bothering to look up. 

 

Keith picked up a samalf, rolling the pebbled citrus between his palms. It was heavier than it looked and mostly firm—perfect. Looked healthy, too, with vibrant pink skin that shone in the sun. 

 

“How much for just one,” he asked, and the haggling began.

 

* * *

 

He could have just walked away. He really should have—the maikiki melon wasn’t necessary. It was only that Hunk loved them so much. And he hadn’t had one in so long. So Keith just  had to stay and bargain for one, even when his instinct poked up one fuzzy ear. 

 

More like instinct squeezed his stomach so hard it felt like his guts were going to fall out. It wasn’t paranoia if they were actually out to get you, Keith knew, so he broke concentration to glance around the market. It would be easier if the place wasn’t filled with so many  _ people, _ but then again, ain’t nothing easy. 

 

Between a gap in the crowd came a flash of familiar white armor. In the split second Keith saw it, the face mask lifted, looking straight at Keith with the empty black eyes and bristling teeth of a Stormtrooper. 

 

“We need to leave,” Keith said, throwing some coins on the stall. The knitter scoffed at Keith’s insolence, and Hunk tried to apologize, but by then it was mostly too late. 

 

The gun barrel was freezing cold, even through the shirt and leather jacket Keith wore. The barrel came with words whispered in Keith’s ear: “Don’t. Move.”

 

Keith did not move, per se, because it was only just moving his eyes around, and that didn’t count. He didn’t bother looking at the Stormtrooper, he knew what he would see: it was only an escape that he wanted, and tried to look for. Any escape that didn’t end with either of them getting shot in the back. He tried—but Hunk caught his attention, pale-faced and scared. Pale-faced and desperate. Pale-faced and whispering a soft prayer. 

 

“No. No way, José,” the shopkeeper said, throwing down his knitting and standing up. He directed one angry finger in Keith’s direction, and by extension, the rest of the four in front of his stall. “There will be no war by these fruits. They come from war, and so do I, and so do all of you. We are all sick and tired of it, fighting battles for people who do not care for the lives of their soldiers. You will not spill blood here. The land is sick of blood.”

 

The Stormtroopers were stunned into obedience, which is why Keith and Hunk weren’t shot right away, he was sure. Still, their guns did not drop, and they did not leave. 

 

Keith took advantage of the situation to properly pay for his fruits. 

 

“Let’s not leave,” Hunk whispered over to Keith. Keith was inclined to agree. It was only because of the shopkeeper that they were alive and uncaptured. Who knew what would happen if they left? Probably death. 

 

The Stormtroopers were disinclined to leave either, so it seemed. Keith didn’t want to look at them at all. He’d had enough of those guys, thanks. Stormtroopers weren’t everything they were made out to be. 

 

“KF-043,” one of them said, and Keith jolted. Involuntarily, he straightened, and clenched his fists. “I knew I recognized you. Your hair is longer now.”

 

It was the one behind Keith. She lowered her gun and took off her helmet. Her thick braid fell out its bun; Keith had turned to look her in her suddenly deep brown eyes. He named her: “ED-154.”

 

“That’s me,” she said. “You still looking for SR-741?”

 

Keith angrily flushed. “Shut up.”

 

The Stormtrooper behind Hunk joined the conversation. “Wow! A Jedi and a traitor in one day. We’re going to get promoted.”

 

“Shut up, NK-009,” ED-154 said. “I’ll eat my own helmet if you ever get promoted.”

 

Keith jerked his head at Hunk.  _ Run away. RUN AWAY. _ Maybe Hunk picked up on his brain waves with some Jedi mind trick, but he took one small step away from the stall, and when the Stormtroopers didn’t notice, broke out into a fast walk away from the stall. 

 

NK-009 and ED-154 were still conversing. “Make it some of the raw walish and I’ll accept.”

 

“No way am I eating raw walish, I won’t be able to go on duty for a week,” ED-154 said. “Captain would kill me.”

 

“How did you find me,” Keith asked. More like said—he was honestly stalling here. He didn’t especially care how they found him, because it was probably:

 

“Chance,” ED-154 said, shrugging. “We were only patrolling around here. Did you know? Wilo has switched over. Officially. There’s still some rebellious forces hanging around, but they’ve only got one cruiser, and we’re about to take that down.”

 

Keith kept his face neutral. “The same cruiser that’s right above us.”

 

“The very same,” ED-154 said, sounding the exact kind of cheery that meant she was pissed off. “If that falls, we’re all going to die.”

 

“Shit,” Keith said, in the same cheery tone ED-154 had just used. 

 

“Yep. Never said those on top were very smart.” Quickly, before Keith could make heads or tails of what had happened, she shot out NK-009’s knee. “Should we go now, or wait to get captured?”

 

NK-009 screamed and fell to the floor. 

 

“You have a ship,” ED-154 said. 

 

The stall keeper stood up and leaned over his wares to check out NK-009 on the floor. 

 

“So do I, but that one’s always being tracked,” ED-154 said. 

 

The crowd of people around them created a broad semicircle. In the distance, Keith could see police and more Stormtroopers. 

 

“So let’s get going before this goddamn planet gets crushed, and I won’t turn you in,” ED-154 said. 

 

Keith finally had a mind to say “What.” 

 

ED-154 grabbed his arm, dropping her helmet, and hauled ass. “We’re leaving. We can’t stay on this planet, otherwise we’re all going to die. You have a ship. And—food.” She eyed the bag of fruits still in Keith’s hand. 

 

“You’re going to be called a traitor,” Keith told her. 

 

“I’m willing to make that sacrifice.”

 

ED-154 finally stopped dragging Keith through the market. He supposed she thought they were far enough away from the commotion NK-009 was still causing. Regardless, Keith bolted. No way was he staying with ED-154. He knew what she was capable of. 

 

“Hey—KF-043! Dammit!” ED-154 yelled. Keith heard her boots clanking on the ground behind him. “Stop!”

 

Keith cursed to himself. He didn’t want a  _ Stormtrooper _ chasing after him in a busy marketplace—even though people cleared out of the way for him, someone was bound to stop him at some point. 

 

The people he passed stared at him with hard eyes. He was going much too fast to see the nods of approval they gave him. 

 

ED-154 had it easier: she was able to plow through the gap Keith left in the crowd, while Keith had to push and shove people out of the way. He wished he had brought his knife. It was  _ stupid _ of him to leave it behind, and now he was probably going to get captured and die. It was just that he thought he would be safe. 

 

“Stop!” ED-154 shouted again, like she thought it would help. 

 

Keith glanced behind him, gauging the distance between him and her: despite all the odds, she was falling behind. He smirked to himself. There wasn’t anyone else to smirk to, except for the person that unceremoniously grabbed his arm and yanked him into the crowd. 

 

“Walk slowly,” Hunk whispered in Keith’s ear, his hand still wrapped around Keith’s bicep. Keith squawked a couple times, but softly, because now they were undercover. Hunk steered them away from ED-154, who had stopped, the crowd filling in around her. 

 

Hunk pushed Keith’s head down, but gently. “Don’t look.”

 

“How do you know how to do this,” Keith hissed. 

 

“Don’t ask.”

 

“You don’t know.”

 

“There’s a reason, I promise. Let’s just get out of here before she kills us.”

 

“She wasn’t aiming to kill us,” Keith said. “She… she wanted to get out of here. That ship up above—the one we passed—it’s going to crash down here and—”

 

“Tell me when we’re out of here.”

 

Somewhere behind them, someone screamed: a scream of pure loss and terrible, terrible anger. It was faint. On instinct, Keith and Hunk both turned to look—ED-154 had frozen in the middle of the street, staring blankly at her hologram pad. She looked up, desperately, her braid swinging from side to side as she scanned the crowd. 

 

“Shit,” Hunk whispered, and moved them along. 

 

People kept grabbing parts of Keith’s body without him wanted them to, dammit, and ED-154’s yank on his hand  _ hurt. _ “You have to help me. We—they lost. The First Order.”

 

It was Keith’s turn to say “shit”. 

 

“Yeah. Whoever is still alive is coming back down here to regroup—when they find out I shot Neek—they’re gonna shoot me for treason. Take me back with you.”

 

“No way,” Keith began to say, but Hunk cut him off with a short, “Fine.”

 

“Thank you,” ED-154 said, true gratitude coloring her words. Keith bit back a groan. 

 

“We’ll take you to our ship, but you have to lose the armor,” Keith groused. 

 

Hunk pinched his side. Keith squirmed slightly. “The fruit guy was right. This universe is sick of blood. The only way we can bring peace is by extending it to our enemies.”

 

“That sounds dumb and lame,” Keith muttered, but neither Hunk nor ED-154 were listening. ED-154 chucked her helmet into the crowd, far enough away that none of them saw where it landed. 

 

“Not what I meant,” Keith said. “Just come with us and dump it off in some dumpster somewhere.”

 

“Oh,” ED-154 said.

 

“Yeah,  _ oh,” _ Keith muttered. “Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

Take-off from Wilo was stressful. They’d had to sneak onto the airport, and had even been  _ shot at _ by Imperial troops trying to leave. Keith’s ship (that he had stolen in the first place) was going to have to be replaced, and soon. They knew her now, if they hadn’t known her before. 

 

“I’m going to call you Ed,” Hunk said. “Or is Eddie better?”

 

“Eddie is fine,” ED-154 said. Keith should probably get used to calling her Eddie now, but that would mean he was listening to her and Hunk, which he definitely was  _ not.  _

 

Then they collectively saw the battlefield, and they were silent. 

 

In the space between the planets, the First Order’s cruiser lay still and broken. Jagged bolts of lightning flickered between the hull and the bridge; Keith thought he saw the ghost of someone in the windows, but that couldn’t have been possible, because the bridge had been exposed to space and was half-frozen already. 

 

Dozens and dozens of FTDs from both sides lay dead. They coursed with their own lightning; Keith thought he could see Stormtrooper and Rebel helmets alike in the flickering light. His eyesight wasn’t that good. His imagination was just filling in information that he didn’t want or need. 

 

“Shit,” Keith whispered. 

 

The cruiser was leaning dangerously in the direction of Wilo. Keith was sure, given a few hours, it would crash into the planet. Unless someone stopped it. Somehow.

 

“We’re getting out of here right now,” Keith said to the people in his ship. “Prepare for lightspeed.”

 

“What? No,” Hunk protested. “We have to save these people—that battleship is going to crash into Wilo, and everyone there is going to  _ die!” _

 

Keith clenched his fists. “Why is that  _ my _ problem? I don’t know anyone on Wilo. Why save them now when they’re only going to be overrun by the First Order? Why save them now when they’re all going to be enslaved and  _ massacred _ in the streets? Trust me—they won’t thank us if we save them now. How would we even stop a cruiser from crashing into a planet at this range? It’s inevitable. It’s just… inevitable, Hunk.”

 

Keith buried his head in his hands. He wished, sometimes, that his temper didn’t flare up like that. He only half-meant the things he said when he was angry. This time, though… it was true. He didn’t want anything to do with Wilo and Lwiowl and their petty war.

 

“If these people live another day, then they live to fight another day,” Hunk said. “Hope isn’t pinned on one person or one action or any one thing—it is a part the galaxy’s mindset, that we can hope for something better.”

 

Keith squeezed his head around the temples. How he had longed for  _hope._

 

“We can send the ship into lightspeed and drive it into deep space,” Eddie suggested, getting to the core of Keith’s problem like she always did. 

 

“Is that going to work, though? Would the hyperdrive still function?” Keith asked. He hated himself for jumping on the solution like that. 

 

“Probably. I mean, we don’t need actual thrusters for hyperspace travel,” Hunk mused. “Which is good, because those things are shot to hell. I don’t think the hyperdrive is gone, because those things are hard to get at, even with the ship like this. They’re meant to be protected. If it  _ is _ broken, I could probably fix it.”

 

“Great.” Eddie slipped into the co-pilot’s seat next to Keith and began flicking switches Keith didn’t know existed. “Let’s get into that ship.”

 

* * *

 

Keith took in the imperial cruiser. It had been ages since he’d dared step foot on one; it hadn’t changed much since he’d left. The same tall ceilings and long corridors were still prevalent, yet the feeling of  _ the only home he was ever going to get so he’d better enjoy it _ was gone.

 

He picked up a lonely Stormtrooper helmet from the floor. Bits of… something fell out, but it was nothing he wanted to think about. Up close like this, it was easy to remember what it was like having one of them on his head; the pop-ups and suit monitors were a memory he’d never be able to forget. The empty eyes and turned-down mouth were familiar in their repetition. As Keith glanced around, he saw hundreds of helmets and sprawled Stormtrooper bodies littering the floor. 

 

“Let’s get to the bridge, and then we can escape into our memories,” Eddie called over. When did she get so far across the hangar? Surely he hadn’t spent so long staring into an old helmet. It didn’t mean anything to him, anyway. 

 

Keith hurried to catch up with her all the way to crossing into the bridge. Hunk had split off to search for the hyperdrive on his own; Keith had gone with Eddie to see if there was anything salvageable in the bridge, or if the button to send the ship into lightspeed would still work. 

 

They split up; Eddie took the lower portion, while Keith took the commander's position. From here, he could see the cool blue curve of Wilo. It looked like a splash of milk across a hardwood floor: perfect, cold, disastrous.

 

There wasn’t much on the upper section of the bridge. Below the windows were a few stations, mostly for communications and the biggest weapons. Everything else would be down in the technician’s den. 

 

“I don’t see it up here,” Keith said to Eddie. She hummed in response, though it sounded distracted. 

 

“I think I found it,” Eddie said after a minute. “Come down here, I want a second opinion. Didn’t you use to work up here?”

 

“It was on a different ship,” Keith said. “And I wasn’t any technician.”

 

“But you do know what button got pressed when you went into hyperspace,” Eddie said. “Come down here.”

 

Keith slipped down into the technician’s pit via sitting down on the main pathway and dropping down off the side. He’d always wanted to do that. It wasn’t as fun as he had hoped. Eddie was hidden by a bank of computers. Keith could see the top of her head and her frizzy hair over the row; they were made for people sitting down, so they were rather short, but not short enough. 

 

“Over here,” Eddie insisted. 

 

Keith went over there, and was pleasantly surprised to not be shot or stabbed immediately. He was not surprised at all to see Eddie pointing a gun at him, though. He supposed she was also unsurprised when Keith took his own gun out of the back of his pants. 

 

“I promise I’m not working with the First Order,” Eddie said. “Can you say the same?”

 

“I promise I’m not working with  _ or for _ the First Order,” Keith replied, quirking one eyebrow. 

 

Eddie shrugged. “Same difference. I just want to know—when we get to the next planet—will you let me go without a fuss, or are you going to turn us in?”

 

“I’ll let you do whatever you want, so long as you get the hell out of my life,” Keith said. “Take a long look at this face, and know that if I get betrayed, or Hunk, that this is the last face you’ll ever see.”

 

“Edgy,” Eddie snarked. 

 

“I mean it.”

 

“I’m sure you do.” Eddie put her gun back in the waistband of her pants. “Seriously, though, I think this is the button.”

 

Keith peered at the place Eddie was pointing at; only an inconspicuous series of levers and buttons on an otherwise empty console. He swatted her hand away immediately. “No. Weapons.”

 

Eddie clutched her hand to her chest immediately. “Oh. Dammit.”

 

“You didn’t press any, right?”

 

“No.”

 

“Good.”

 

They stood there a second longer, thinking about the disaster they narrowly avoided. Everyone knew weapons were the last thing to go on ships like this: after the shields, after the fuel, after the people, the guns would live on. 

 

“I think it’s up on the command, actually,” Keith said, recalling a large lever he had seen pulled more times than he could count. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been on a ship like this.”

 

“It’s fine,” Eddie said to Keith’s unspoken apology. She knew better than anyone that Stormtroopers don’t apologize. It was a habit Keith kept trying to break. 

 

They crawled back up to command. Keith poked a button he thought was the in-ship communications, which turned out to actually be the ship’s logs. Keith closed out of them quickly, before Eddie saw, and stole the chip from the slot it popped out of. 

 

Keith brought up his holopad, a counterpart to the one he’d given to Hunk. “Tell me the status on the hyperdrive.”

 

“I don’t know,” Eddie said, exactly when Hunk said something back. “And, you weren’t talking to me. I’ll just be over here.”

 

“Sorry,” Hunk said. “Yeah, the hyperdrive is working just fine. I could tune it up a little bit more, but honestly, I just think I should get out of here. You’re at the bridge?”

 

Keith nodded wordlessly, then realized Hunk couldn’t see him, and said, “Yeah.”

 

“Great. I’ll be up there in five.”

 

The holopad clicked off, and Keith joined Eddie at the lightspeed lever, as they decided to call it. 

 

Eddie smirked at him. “So. You and your Jedi.”

 

“His name is Hunk,” Keith said without thinking.

 

“You and your  _ Hunk,”  _ Eddie said, and Keith would be damned if a thrill didn’t go through at him at the thought of Hunk being  _ his. _ “What’s the story there?”

 

“There isn’t any story,” Keith said hotly. “He’s just a Jedi I picked up on Myas that’s stuck around.”

 

“You two seem close,” Eddie said. “He gets you, you know? You know I’m not an expert on this, but I think he really likes you.”

 

“No way,” Keith said. “You think so?”

 

“Yeah. And… you get him, too. You do have your problems to work out, but I think you’d be happy together.” Eddie looked at the floor and kicked at a line with the toe of her boot. “You’d have a better relationship together than I could with anyone.”

 

“Don’t say that. You’ll find a nice guy somewhere.”

 

Eddie smiled. “You think?”

 

“Yeah. I mean, sure he’d be viciously ugly, with tusks and a short snout, but—” He cut himself off with a short laugh when Eddie punched him in the shoulder. “But you’d be happy together! And in love.”

 

They laughed together for a second.  _ This  _ was that home-like feeling Keith had missed in the hangar. The First Order had raised him and his soldiers-in-arms together, taught them to fight together, taught them to grow together and support each other. Even though they were child soldiers, even though they were cut down over and over, they were  _ family. _ Eddie was his sister-in-arms. 

 

The sound of Hunk’s feet coming up on the bridge broke Keith out of his thoughts. He took in the Jedi knight: his color-bleached vest over a thin cotton shirt, the boots that swallowed his loose pants halfway up his calves. His serious expression, carefully neutral, like he knew how serious this was. He belonged more on this command center than Keith or Eddie did, and on reflex, he straightened. 

 

“Are we ready to go?” Hunk asked, and the illusion broke. 

 

“Yes,” Eddie said. “All we need to do is pull the lever—are you sure the hyperdrive is fine?”

 

Hunk pushed his shoulders back. “Of course. I studied engineering, you know. I know what I’m doing.”

 

“Fine, fine,” Eddie said. “We know the plan? Pull the lever, then run like hell.”

 

“Got it,” Keith and Hunk said in unison. 

 

Eddie looked them both in the eye. There was something hard there, something only Stormtroopers knew. Keith nodded at her. 

 

He grabbed Hunk’s arm and hauled him away before Eddie even had her hand on the switch. Hunk lightly protested; he wanted to wait for Eddie, get to their ship together. 

 

“She’ll catch up,” Keith said, breaking into a run. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

 

“What?”

 

Keith gritted his teeth and rounded the corner that opened to the hangar. “Don’t listen to me. Listen—we need to wait for Eddie to plug in coordinates, but we can only give her a minute to get here. Are you ready to leave her behind if she doesn’t make it?”

 

“What?” Hunk backed up a step. Keith turned to look him in the eye. “I—I don’t—”

 

Keith took hold of Hunk’s arm. “Sacrifices need to be made sometimes. I need to know if you’re going to be okay if she doesn’t make it.”

 

“She’s going to make it,” Hunk said, and squeezed his eyes closed. Keith took a step backwards of his own, allowing Hunk room to crouch down and lightly press his fingertips to the floor. 

 

“What are you—” Keith began, but was silenced by Hunk’s shushing. 

 

They stayed like that for a few impossibly long heartbeats. Keith glanced around the hanger, almost waiting for the Stormtroopers to wake up and shoot his heart right out of his chest. 

 

“There,” Hunk said, rising to his feet. “Come on.”

 

He climbed onto Keith’s ship, which sat ready for takeoff, incongruous to the rest of the Imperial hangar. Sure, it was from the First Order in the first place, but it was too familiar for this place now. 

 

Keith followed him up the ramp. When he sat down in the cockpit, he saw through the windows the stars turning into rays of light. 

 

“Here she comes,” Hunk said, immediately. 

 

“No, that’s impossible,” Keith said. “You can’t get from the bridge to the hangar that fast—”

 

He turned to see Hunk’s knowing smirk. “Trust in the Force.” Impulsively, probably due to the Force (which was a fool’s errand and a traitor’s errand, but he was a little bit of both), Keith leaned up to kiss him.

 

 

 

 

END

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! This was written for the [Heith Secret Santa](https://heith-secret-santa.tumblr.com/) event over on Tumblr. _Fun Fact ~~i'm gonna smack something~~ :_ I didn't know who I was gifting to for the entirety of writing this because something got screwed up somehow?? so I went with a Star Wars AU because usually that's a safe thing to do, and also because I love Star Wars. So how about that new movie huh? I love it I won't let anyone trash-talk it. I'll fight anyone who trash-talks it okay
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated! Come talk to me on [Tumblr](https://reaadmydumbfanfiction.tumblr.com/) too! ~~blease this author is dying for contact~~


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